Right Here
by Stephanniexo
Summary: A Sterek song fic inspired by and based on the song Right Here by Betty Who.


Derek could hear Stiles' heart pounding out a rythmn, fast and loud against his chest, unsteady, skipping and stuttering a couple of times. He felt Stiles' breath hitch and get caught in his throat as he lowered Stiles to the bed. Their eyes were locked and if Derek hadn't had his special abilities, he would never have noticed these little things, he would have been completely lost in Stiles' eyes and the pure, raw, emotion in them. He could smell his arousal, his nose was full of it, masking any scent of the pack that constantly lingered in the loft these days. Derek pushed his hand into Stiles' hair, pushing it back and growling deep when Stiles' eyes slip closed and he leans into Derek's hand, shutting off that emotion he had been swimming in.

It's late, ridiculously so really, nearing four in the morning and even though it's still pitch dark outside Derek can just about make out the wakening wildlife over the beat of Stiles' heart. They had just got in, minutes ago, after sending a witch on her way, after warning her to stay away or else they'd take proper action next time. No one had died, thankfully, there had been enough of that lately, but she'd still managed to reek enough havoc that Stiles had been frightened for his life. And so had Derek.

So the minute she had disappeared, and Scott and Isaac had rode off home on Scott's bike, Derek had taken Stiles' hand in his and asked if he would come home with him. Stiles had smiled at him and mumbled something about school in the morning but he hadn't let go of Derek's hand as he pulled him towards his jeep.

Nothing else had been said, they'd been doing this for long enough, going on many months now, to not have to say anything, and the minute they had entered Derek's loft, their lips had met as if they were magnets and their clothes had been lost along the way to the bed. It was turning into a habit to fall into bed with each other after a threat on their lives, but it was a habit they were both happy to have.

Derek cups Stiles' face now, rubbing his thumb down the soft scrape of stubble forming along his jaw. Stiles preens against him, humming deep in his throat, his heartbeat still pounding hard. Derek lowered his own chest to rest against Stiles to feel their heartbeats together, to feel Stiles' in beat with his own, to feel the heat of their skin against each other. He dipped his head down, pressing his lips against the scratchy skin of Stiles' jaw and under his chin. He nudged his nose against his ear and breathed in deeply, his head swirling in Stiles' scent and making him growl again.

"I hate the thought of loosing you," Derek whispers against the skin, and maybe he's in this deeper than he's willing to admit to himself, deeper than either of them are prepared to discuss outside of their trysts. His stomach swoops just by holding Stiles against him and trying to take in every sense all at once, the feel of him, the sound of his breaths and his heart, his scent, the taste of it on the tip of his tongue, around his lips and the sight of him so openly falling apart at Derek's touch. He was dizzy with it all, couldn't even make sense of all of it at once but he wanted to so much that he opened himself up to it anyway.

"I'm not going anywhere," Stiles says, his voice surprisingly steady and strong considering the state he was in just by Derek's lingering touch.

"No. You're not," Derek replies simply and Stiles pushes his hands up his chest as Derek wraps his arms around him and holds him as close as they could physically get, which still didn't feel close enough.

Stiles pushes his hands further up Derek's chest, over hard nipples and around his collar bone, right over his neck and into his hair. Derek is still nuzzled against his neck, bathing in all the sensation's Stiles is giving him, Stiles not aware enough to just revel in it, needing more. He holds Derek against him, his fingers pressed against Derek's scalp, burning with his heat but not thinking of anywhere he'd rather be. Derek's lips brush over his neck and he feels a shiver run down his spine as he struggles to remember what it's like to breath.

Derek, his head foggy with the assault on his senses, travels his lips over Stiles' skin, nipping and biting around his neck, low enough to be covered by the collar of one of Stiles' shirts but high enough that Derek would see it if he looked hard enough. After he feels Stiles is sufficiently marked he travels down Stiles' body, kissing over his chest and stomach, over his abdomen and down his thighs. Stiles squirms, Derek's warm breath fluttering over him giving him goosebumps and Derek can't help the smile he makes, and lets his fingers lightly follow the trail his lips make and he picks up on the way that Stiles' heart is beating and doesn't even feel guilty about it.

Derek repositions after he feels he has peppered Stiles with enough kisses and their skin is pressed against each other, hot and flushed. Derek hovers his face over Stiles' again, the gentle content smile he shares is genuine and Derek wonders how he managed to deny those lips for so long, when really they should have been his first port of call. He finally presses their lips together now, with a little more force than he had intended but in no way felt guilty about, they both needed it, and Stiles didn't seem to be complaining, if his dancing tongue was anything to go by.

Derek's hands travel again, pushing Stiles' legs further apart, his fingers caressing the sensitive spot behind Stiles' knees and the back of his thighs. Stiles pushes his chest against Derek's, arching into him and fiercely clutching the sides of his face as they kissed. Derek could feel the want and ferocious need that seeped from Stiles, could taste it and felt a bubbling warmth in the pit of his stomach at the thought. It always felt nice for him to feel wanted by his pack, but when it was coming from Stiles it was something entirely different, it was off the scale.

He pulled his lips upwards and off of Stiles', to look at him again, his bottom lip dragging as Stiles held it between his teeth. He breathed a laugh over Stiles' face and looked back down at him. Stiles' face was only lit by an outside street light but it was enough to see a mixture of amusement, potent arousal, want and an expression he had never seen on his face before, not as strongly as he saw now. It should have panicked him that this young boy, that Stiles, was in love with him, but it didn't. It felt like he already knew.

Stiles was still panting from the kiss but as he watched Derek hover over him he saw clearly Derek's eyes flare red, bright and fiery in the dark, his face in shadow, but it wasn't as if Stiles hadn't memorised his features anyway. Stiles' stomach swooped and he felt his heart burn in his chest with want and need and the silent gratification that Derek's eye flare was for him. Before Stiles could properly react, Derek had their lips meet again and Derek's fingers were gently slipping into him and he forgot what he had wanted to say anyway, a rarity for Stiles but not unheard of when Derek was someway involved.

Derek's kiss was soft and more gentle than he had ever kissed, and Stiles could feel that burning in his heart again, and he briefly wondered if it was something Derek was doing, or if the witch had put some sort of spell on him. He was panting, the fingers inside him, twisting and pushing firmly in and out and Stiles knew this was no spell, just Derek's effect on him.

"I've never felt like this before," Derek whispered against his lips, as if he was saying it without realising and Stiles erupted in gooseflesh again. He dug his nails into where he was holding Derek tight against him, around his back now, and rolled his hips pushing against Derek's hand. For once, he was finding it hard to form the words in his head and turn them into speech, opting to use his actions instead.

"Are you ready?" Derek whispered quieter still, dipping his head so that their foreheads rested against each other, their eyes locked and Derek's flashed red again, making Stiles quickly nod, moving Derek's head with his own. Derek pulled his fingers from Stiles and pushed his legs further back before pressing his own hips slowly forward.

Stiles' fingernails dug deep, scratching from Derek's back and around to his ribs, holding his breath as he settled around this new, bigger, intrusion. Derek barely felt it, purely focused on Stiles and the scent of the arousal tinged with pain pushing from him. He continued to push his hips slowly forward, sinking into Stiles and just waiting on that smell of Stiles' pain changing to pleasure, it would be a matter of minutes.

Derek sets a rhythm to meet Stiles' heartbeat and just as he predicted Stiles' scent changes again as he pushes back on Derek, picking up the rhythm and riding with it. His legs lock around Derek, and his fingernails draw blood over the same bit of flesh that heals and breaks over and over again. Derek slows his rhythm to make them both last and his hands travel Stiles' skin once again.

"Sti-les," he shakily breathes out, his words unsteady over Stiles' moans and the minute his whisper fades Stiles' legs drop as if the strength to hold them up isn't there any longer. Derek's too focused on feeling to care and just takes a tight grip of Stiles' hips instead, thrusting forward harder now, finding it hard to care about drawing this out or anything that isn't making Stiles feel as good as possible.

"Derek, fuck!" Stiles has found his voice again and intends to use it as he presses his head deep into the pillows and strengthens his legs enough to press the heels of his feet into Derek's arse cheeks.

Derek's face drops into the space between Stiles' neck and shoulder and nibbles at the skin, biting over the mark he'd left there earlier, just to make sure it doesn't go anywhere. Stiles clenches his abdomen, rolls his hips and he's gone, his climax hitting the breath out of him as Derek's follows straight after.

Stiles' lungs start to burn as he tries to regain his breath, taking deep gulps of air the minute Derek's hands find his face, holding it and breathing heavy over him. Derek kisses him softly on the lips again, calming Stiles' heart long enough for him to regulate his breathing. Stiles kissed back, hungry and thankful and loosened his grip on Derek, if only slightly.

Derek slipped to the side, lying flat on his back and pulling Stiles half way around with him. Stiles repositioned himself so that he was half lying over Derek, half not and bring his hands around to caress Derek's chest. The light from the street lamp coming in through the window making Derek's skin glow and allowed him to see the blood imbedded under his fingernails and felt a swoop of guilt in his gut.

"Wow, sorry," Stiles said holding his hand out to inspect Derek's blood staining his fingertips.

Derek chuckled slightly, taking Stiles' hand to look closer before threading his fingers through the spaces between Stiles' and lowering them both back to his chest. "Didn't even feel it," Derek said burrying his nose in the top of Stiles' hair and breathing deeply. He was becoming dependent on his scent and even though it scared him, it was soothing and relaxing him more than anything else, the way the scent of a mate is supposed to. But that was uncharted territory to be finding himself in, so Derek pushed that thought firmly from his mind.

"Alright, Mr macho wolf," Stiles breathed, pinching the skin of Derek's hand as a point, and bringing Derek away from thoughts of mating with Stiles and appreciating the boy sprawled over him instead. Shivers start to run down his spine at the feeling of Derek's nose in his hair, inhaling deeply.

They lay in silence, not needing to say anything, the way it often was with them, but something Stiles was unwilling to let happen for too long. Their fingers were still tracing and stroking and caressing slowly over each others skin. Stiles couldn't quite bring himself to close his eyes and sleep yet, even though he was exhausted and had to be up in only a few hours. Every moment between them felt special and stolen, the last thing he wanted to do was waste it with sleep. He still didn't know what he had done to deserve this, whatever this was, but he was sure it would be taken from him any moment.

"I hope you're okay with me staying because I really don't want to be going anywhere," Stiles said softly, his breath puffed over Derek's chest and Derek's hand clenched in his. Stiles could never ask outright if he could stay, even though Derek never had a problem with it.

"As if I'd make you leave. You're staying right here," Derek said, his arm tightened around Stiles' shoulders holding him as close as he could, and Stiles closed his eyes to store the feeling away for later.

Stiles yawned and kissed Derek's chest, turning to perch his chin and smile up at Derek's face, slowly opening his eyes again. Derek smiled back down at him, sleepy and content. Stiles blinked back and felt his heart beat hard as he realised he had no idea what he would do if he didn't have this to ground him, if he ever had to give this up, well it was unimaginable.

"Sleep, you have school tomorrow," Derek said, softly, carding his fingers through Stiles' hair. Stiles pressed against his touch and closed his eyes again at the feeling of Derek's hot fingers on his scalp.

"Okay," Stiles mumbled. He turned his head back to rest comfortably on Derek like a pillow. Derek brought the sheet around them, kissed Stiles on the top of his head and sighed softly, settling for sleep.

Whatever they were doing together, Stiles knew he wouldn't have traded it for anything. The thought of being anywhere but right here, tight in Derek's arms actually made his stomach churn with unease. He was prepared to love Derek, if he'd let him, although really, Stiles wasn't giving him much of an option.


End file.
